


Five Little Humans

by Marian_De_Haan



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen, Mystery, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 13:10:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21198188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marian_De_Haan/pseuds/Marian_De_Haan
Summary: Vila stared at the picture appearing onLiberator'slarge oval screen. The craft was sleek and streamlined. Over its shiny silver hull ran a band of dots, squares and triangles in many bright colours. Vila hadn't known so many colours existed. He saw all kinds of shades of red, green, yellow, blue, purple and brown, yet each colour was clearly distinguishable. They gave the ship a festive appearance, which only served to deepen Vila's distrust.





	Five Little Humans

**Author's Note:**

> Published in The Chronicles #70. Reproduced here on the author's behalf and with the author's permission.

Vila had not intended to fall asleep on watch, honestly! Come to think of it, he hadn't been asleep, just deep in thought. Well, he'd heard Avon ask Zen for a status report, hadn't he?

  
Sitting up, he caught the end of Zen's reply: "The _Liberator_ is not on a collision course with the drifting spacecraft."

Vila found Avon's dark gaze on him. "What drifting spacecraft, Vila?"

"Who cares?" He rose from the couch in preparation for a dignified retreat. "Right. Now you've taken over my watch, I'll be off."

Avon raised his arm. "Wait, Vila! Why didn't you sound the alarm?"

"Why should I? You heard Zen: we aren't on a collision course." Attack was the best defence here. "Besides, I'd have thought we've had our fill of drifting spacecraft, after the ship full of frozen homicidal aliens and the Ortega!"

"Put it on the main screen, Zen." Avon said.

Vila stared at the picture appearing on _Liberator's_ large oval screen. The craft was sleek and streamlined. Over its shiny silver hull ran a band of dots, squares and triangles in many bright colours. Vila hadn't known so many colours existed. He saw all kinds of shades of red, green, yellow, blue, purple and brown, yet each colour was clearly distinguishable. They gave the ship a festive appearance, which only served to deepen Vila's distrust.

"Zen, do you have any information about this type of ship?" Avon asked.

"_Liberator's_ databanks contain no information about the craft on screen."

"Nothing at all?" Frowning, Avon reached for the internal communicator. "Blake, you'd better come to the flight deck. we've come upon an unidentified ship that might be worth investigating."

"You're sure?" Vila asked, eyeing the craft with apprehension. "It might be full of hairy aliens." But he saw it was no use; Avon's curiosity was roused.

Sighing, Vila sat down again on the couch, intent on making himself as inconspicuous as possible.

* * *

Avon's call had brought the full crew to the flight deck. Lounging on the couch, Vila followed their discussion with foreboding.

"Have you ever" seen anything like it?" Blake asked Jenna.

Eyes on the screen, she shook her head.

"I can't see any registration. That's against Federation rules."

"So, it's not a Federation ship," Avon commented. "Which is obvious at first sight."

"They should still bear a form of registration, unless they want to avoid all Federation territory," Jenna retorted.

"That ship must be huge," Cally said. "Look how it fills the screen even at this distance."

Gan looked up from his console, where he'd been trying to make contact. "No response."

"What happened to the crew?" Blake wondered aloud.

Gan stepped from his position. "They must be in trouble."

"Or dead," Vila said under his breath; he wasn't keen to find out.

"Reprogram course and speed, Zen," Blake instructed. "Take us to five hundred spacials from the object."

"Speed and course conﬁrmed."

Jenna was still studying the picture. "No heavy armament, by the look of it."

"A pleasure cruiser from a neutral planet, maybe?" Blake addressed the computer again: "Zen, have the sensors picked up any sign of life?"

"That information is not available."

"Oh, no, he's being difficult again." Now Vila began to feel really nervous. "Every time Zen's been unco-operative we've found ourselves in trouble."

"Oh, shut up, Vila," Cally said.

"Zen," Avon asked, "is it safe for us to teleport across?"

"The craft's life support system is fully functioning. The atmosphere, temperature and humidity are suitable for humans."

"Right," Blake said. "Let's take a look, then. Avon, Cally, get your guns."

Vila felt a shiver run down his spine. "I say we should get out of here."

Jenna rolled her eyes. "You're not getting nervous again, are you, Vila?"

"This neurotic habit is getting rather tedious," Avon observed while taking a gun from the storage rack.

"We have to see if the crew are all right, Vila," Cally said, fastening her gun belt. "It's our duty."

Gan nodded. "They may need our help."

Vila glared at them. "I'm just cautious."

Avon plugged his gun into the powerpack on his belt with more force than necessary. "It's a pity you can't be cautious in silence!"

Blake began to move to the corridor that led to the teleport room. "Come on, Vila."

"Eh?" A moment of panic, then his brain went for the easy option. "You want me to operate the teleport? Right." He rose.

Avon produced a nasty smile. "We may be in need of your special talents, Vila."

"Yes," Blake said, halting in the doorway. "Jenna will operate the teleport."

"Now that's not fair!" Finding the unsympathetic gaze of five pairs of eyes on him, Vila began to trudge to the doorway, his heart filled with foreboding.

* * *

"My, this is _huge_!" Looking about him, Vila took in the vastness of the room. It was bathed in a soft greenish light. The room was about twelve metres by six, Vila estimated, and about eight metres high. The walls and metal floor plates were painted in the same green colour as the light. On two sides, portholes were situated high in the walls, giving a view on the star-strewn darkness of space. At the back of the room he saw the contours of what must be sliding doors, reaching almost to the ceiling.

At the front of the room was a large instrument panel, consisting mainly of display screens. Most of them were dark, a few showing graphics that made no sense to Vila. The panel was decorated with the same colourful dots, squares and triangles he'd seen on the hull of the ship.

In front of the panel were six chairs of a silvery metal, placed in three pairs. He'd never seen such chairs before. They had strange, broad armrests that sloped from the back, sweeping forwards to the floor as an extra pair of legs. The back curved up from the seat. At the front the seat curved down into broad front legs. In contrast, the legs at the back were straight and narrow.

Vila simply _had_ to try the nearest chair. "Very comfortable." His arms fitted nicely into the armrests, his legs rested snugly on the front legs. "These people know a thing or two about ergonomics."

As usual, nobody took any notice of him.

"This must be the flight deck," Blake said. "Obviously." Hand on his gun, Avon surveyed the room.

Cally moved to the panel, studying the screens at her eye-level. "All these must be on automatic."

"Can you see what made them lose power?" Blake asked.

"No," Avon said before Cally could reply. "The power is on, everything seems to be working properly. They must have cut their engines deliberately."

"I cannot make much of instruments," Cally said.

Blake went to stand beside her, then shook his head. "Nor can I."

"Nor I," Avon said, "but it isn't my field. Why not ask Jenna?" In answer to Blake's raised eyebrows he added: "She is a pilot, remember."

"Can't do any harm to have her take a look." Blake activated the communicator on his teleport bracelet. "Jenna, tell Gan to take your place at the teleport. I want you to come over here and see what you can make of the instruments."

"All right. Out," came the reply. Vila jumped from his chair. "Better let me go back. Gan may need my help — it's only a week since his operation."

Blake shook his head. "He'll be fine."

"We can't be sure," Vila objected. "Better to be safe than sorry."

"Stop being such a bore, Vila," Cally said.

"Who's being a bore? I'm only saying. . ." - But his protest was drowned out by the sound of the teleport. Morosely, he watched Jenna's form solidify.

She took a look around her and whistled. "I've never seen anything like this! It's almost as grand as the _Liberator_!"

Blake waved at the panel. "See what you can do with these instruments. Meanwhile we'll search the rest of the ship. Vila, see if you can open that door."

Sighing, Vila reached in his pocket for his tools. But his ministrations weren't necessary; when they neared the door the halves slid back silently, revealing a high, dark corridor dimly lit by the same greenish light.

"I don't like this," Vila said. It's dark."

"There's enough light to see where to put your feet." Avon said, hand still on his gun. "Even for someone as prone to tripping over his own feet as you are."

Blake stepped into the corridor. "Come on."

Cally and Avon followed him, Vila reluctantly bringing up the rear. He wasn't reassured when the doors slid shut behind him.

The corridor was wide and high - no need to get claustrophobic, Vila told himself firmly. After about fifteen metres they came upon a huge door on their left. Again, the halves slid open on their approach.

"Avon, Cally, you check that room," Blake said. "Vila and I will continue through the corridor."

Cally nodded, and stepped through the doorway. Avon followed her, gun drawn. Through the gap, rows of shelves were visible in the dim light. Must be a storeroom, Vila thought, idly staring past Avon's disappearing back. Those boxes were just the right size to hold flasks. Suppose they'd come upon an abandoned wine carrier. . .

"Come on, Vila!" Blake's impatient voice piercing his reverie, Vila turned and reluctantly resumed his progress in Blake's wake. "I don't know why you always have to bully me around! All these exertions aren't good for my health, you know. It's been scientifically proven that—"

He fell silent on seeing Blake suddenly pitch forward. Cursing, Blake stretched out a hand to break his fall. Too late. Under Vila's horrified gaze his head hit the floor. Vila involuntarily shuddered on hearing the metallic thud - that must have hurt!

"Blake!" He knelt at the fallen man's side. The sight of blood between the dark curls caused a surge of nausea. "Avon! Cally!"

Footsteps came running. "What happened?" Avon asked, coming to a halt.

Cally knelt down and placed a hand on Blake's neck. "What did you do, Vila?"

"Nothing." He was too upset to take offence at her suspicion. "He just tripped."

"Over his own feet?" Avon holstered his gun. "I thought that was your prerogative, Vila!"

"His pulse is strong." Cally said. "I think he'll be all right. Head wounds tend to bleed profusely."

Avon studied the unconscious man at his feet. "He must have cut his head when it hit the floor."

"I could hear it." Vila told them, carefully looking away from the blood. "Nasty sound."

Cally nodded. "Better get him up to _Liberator_."

"Yes." Avon brought his bracelet to his mouth. "_Liberator_. _Liberator_!"

Vila could hear static coming from the communicator, but no reply.

"Try yours," Avon told him.

Vila did. No reaction. Just static. Defeated, he lowered his arm. "Must be faulty."

"Not both!" Avon said.

Trying to keep his rising panic at bay, Vila uttered his fear: "Gan must have fallen ill. What if his limiter is on the blink again? I knew we shouldn't have left him alone!"

Cally shook her head. She was still on her knees, gently supporting Blake's head. "The communicators must be jammed."

Oh yes, Vila remembered, she trained in communications. Must know what she was talking about, then.

"Maybe," Cally continued, "the ship's hull emits some kind of magnetic field that is interfering with the transmission."

Avon frowned. "It didn't interfere with the teleportation."

_Not on the way in_. Vila stared at his companions in sudden horror. "You mean on the way out we may end up in space? My atoms scattered among the stars? Oh, no, please. . . . "

"Or perhaps," Avon suggested, "Gan absconded with _Liberator_."

That didn't serve to reassure Vila. "He wouldn't, would he?"

"No, he wouldn't." Cally cast Avon such a steely glance that Vila suspected she was telepathing her outrage at him in no uncertain terms.

Avon raised an eyebrow at her, then shrugged. "All right, let's get Blake back to the flight deck. It's possible that only this part of the ship is shielded, and we'll be able to get through to _Liberator_ from there." He bent and passed his hands under Blake's shoulders. "You take his feet, Vila."

"I suppose it's no use reminding you of my weak back?" Muttering to himself, Vila obeyed. They lifted the unconscious man and carried him to the flight deck, Cally supporting his head. Blake was no lightweight and by the time they reached the doors Vila was panting heavily. To his relief he saw the doors slide open - he wouldn't have been surprised if they'd refused to open from this side, just to annoy him!

"Let's put him in one of those chairs Vila found so comfortable." Avon said.

Of course the chairs were at the other side of the room, some nine metres away. While struggling not to drop his load, Vila noticed that the deck seemed empty.

"Jenna?" Cally called.

"She's disappeared." Vila felt his nerves had about all they could bear. "Gone up in smoke."

"She must have gone back to _Liberator_," Avon said, while they manoeuvred their load to the row of chairs.

Vila felt a surge of relief. "So it was only the corridor that was shielded?"

"Obviously," Avon said while they lifted Blake onto the nearest chair. "Easy now. Careful."

Vila felt his back protest.

"That's it." Cally said.

Relieved of his load, Vila began to massage his back. "Ooohhhh. . . ."

While Cally positioned herself at the side of the chair, to prevent Blake from falling off, Avon activated his communicator. "_Liberator_."

Static was the only reply.

Avon lowered his arm. "It could be that Gan brought Jenna back without being asked. Or maybe her bracelet wasn't affected."

Cally brought one hand to her head. "No, Avon, I think Jenna's still here."

Vila eyed the room. On the control panel the rows of monitors, the upper ones well above his reach, flickered lazily. The ship's systems emitted a soft humming. Apart from the seats the place was empty. "I can't see anywhere for her to hide."

"She must have gone to investigate the ship," Avon said.

"Then we would have seen her pass, wouldn't we?" Vila pointed out.

"Not if she's found another passage," Cally said.

"What other passage?" Vila asked. "There's only the one door."

Avon shrugged. "We'll worry about Jenna later. First let's go and find a first-aid kit for Blake. You stay with him, Cally. Come on, Vila, they must have something around here somewhere."

Vila's gaze fell on a tube-shaped object hanging on the wall near the door. It was about a metre long and 35 centimetres in diameter. "'What about that?"

"That looks more like a large fire extinguisher, wouldn't you say?" Avon strode to the pair of doors that again slid obligingly open. "Come on, Vila. A ship this size must have a sickbay, or at least a resuscitation unit."

Vila followed him, once more casting a wary look over his shoulder at the doors sliding close behind them. Avon went past the room he and Cally had been exploring when Blake's accident happened.

"Nothing in there?" Vila asked, remembering the rows of boxes.

"Perhaps," Avon said. "But everything is packed up. It will take too long to open and search the boxes. Better see--"

//Avon! Vila! I'm--//

Vila stopped at the same time as Avon. He stared at the other's face. The green light gave it an unhealthy complexion. "Did you hear that?"

Avon held up his hand. "Keep quiet, Vila!"

But the voice in Vila's head did not return. Nor in Avon's, judging by the look of frustration on his face.

Avon drew his gun. "Something must have silenced her. Come on, let's find out!" He turned and made for the flight deck.

Vila followed him reluctantly, dreading what lay ahead but equally loathe to be left on his own. "You're sure this is wise?" His heart was beating in his throat. "Maybe we should think about this. Try to regain contact with _Liberator_ first. I mean, we don't know what we're up against--"

"Quiet!" Avon halted in front of the double doors, just far enough away not to trigger the sliding mechanism. "Stick to the wall. If they're waiting for us, they'll have to show themselves."

Trembling, Vila obeyed, positioning himself behind Avon.

Avon waved a hand to activate the mechanism, then flattened himself to the wall while the doors slid open.

Vila held his breath, expecting to be jumped upon by unimaginable creatures.

Nothing happened.

Avon took a cautious look round the door. "Nothing! The place is empty."

Heart beating in his ears, Vila followed him into the room. In horror he took in the empty chair where Blake had been. No sign of him or Cally.

"Gan must have brought them up," he ventured, trying to ignore the voice in his mind that was adding: 'or they ended up vaporised in space!'

Gun poised, Avon was cautiously approaching the chair. Suddenly he halted. "What's that?" He squatted, holstering his gun.

Vila hurried to join him. On the floor he saw brownish drops that shone wet in the soft light. He was sure they'd not been there before.

Avon gently touched the largest drop, then looked at his finger. "Blood."

Of course, red would look brown under green light, Vila thought idly, his mind refusing to concentrate on the implications of their find.

"It's still wet," Avon said. Wiping his finger on the palm of his other hand, he scanned the floor. "Look, Vila. There - a trail!"

He was right, the drops formed a distinct trail. But they stopped about a metre from the wall.

"Gone up in smoke!" Vila whispered.

"No." Avon rose. "There must be a passage, a maintenance shaft or something. See if you can find an entry hatch."

Too frightened to protest, Vila began to scan the floor. The metal plates seemed to be soldered in place. A hatch should have a handle, something to lift it. He took another step towards the wall. Maybe the handles were lower down, or camouflaged. But why would anyone wanted to camouflage some han--

Something slimy whipped past his cheek. Vila jumped with a start, only to find he couldn't move! His arms were pinned to his sides.

"Help! Av--" He felt a slimy lump force itself into his mouth, gagging him. Nearly fainting from fear, he saw Avon draw his gun. Something was not right - the gun's cord was dangling free. Cursing, Avon grabbed the end to plug it back in.

In horror Vila saw that the power pack had gone from Avon's belt.

"Damn!" Avon tossed the gun from him. It seemed to collide with something. It bounced off and fell to the floor.

Vila saw Avon turn and make a dash for the door. _Don't leave me_!

Avon wrenched the fire extinguisher from the wall. "Down, Vila!" He began to spray the contents in a large high arc in front of him. The nozzle must be at its widest aperture — the foam spewed over a large area. Shapes began to appear in the foam, huge monsters twice the height of a man. Through his panic Vila took in cone-shaped heads on bodies that seemed to have six arms, each ending in long, agile fingers. The monsters waddled on two short legs with huge, long-toed feet.

Suddenly Vila felt the grip on him loosen. He tore himself free. Without thinking he brought his bracelet to his mouth. "Gan, bring us up NOW!"

To his unspeakable relief he found himself back in _Liberator's_ teleport alcove - together with the others. Avon was still brandishing the fire extinguisher. Blake was still out, lying on his back. Cally and Jenna were on their knees, looking very angry.

Gan stepped from behind the console, staring at them.

Jenna rose, letting out a string of colourful curses. Vila wouldn't have thought she'd know those words. He didn't know half of them himself, come to that.

"What happened?" Gan asked.

"We were set upon by hairy aliens - well, bald aliens, actually." Vila explained.

"We must get Blake to the medical unit." Cally said.

"Yes." Gan picked up Blake, gently placed him over his shoulder, and carried him from the room.

Avon put down his improvised weapon. "First we'll have Zen deal with that ship!"

"Shoot it out of space!" Vila wanted to be absolutely sure it wasn't going to turn up again one day to haunt him!

"Yes," Jenna added with feeling.

"No," Cally said, removing her teleport bracelet. "They meant us no harm."

Jenna grimly rubbed her bare arm, which was beginning to show a bruise. "They could have fooled me!"

Cally shook her head. "They were merely playing."

"Better not wait until they decide to get serious, then." Vila suggested.

"Vila's right, Cally," Avon said. "We can't take the risk."

"Did I hear this right?" Vila mumbled to himself while stashing his bracelet in the rack. "He's actually _agreeing_ with me?"

Cally stood to block Avon's path. "No!"

He glared at her. She returned his gaze, unyielding.

"We'll let Blake decide." Jenna said, taking off her bracelet "We'd better go and see if Gan needs any help."

Avon shrugged. "As you wish."

They set off to the medical unit. Vila considered sneaking off to his cabin, but decided against it. He was in need of a stiff drink and those were kept in the medical unit.

* * *

The _Liberator's_ advanced medical facilities having restored Blake to his former self, they had returned to the flight deck, where they were now sitting on the couches. Vila had brought his glass, which he'd managed to refill without Cally noticing.

Jenna cast Cally a distrustful gaze. "You seem to know a lot about those monsters."

"Cousins of yours?" Vila asked between sipping from his drink.

"They have telepathic abilities." Cally said. "Not the same as my people, but once I was aware of their presence, I could pick up some of their thoughts."

"What did you mean, they were merely playing, Cally?" Avon asked.

"They're only children."

"Children?" Vila echoed. "But they're _big_!"

"Why do you think that ship has eight metre high corridors, Vila?" Avon observed.

Vila glared at him. "I bet you've only just worked that out." A thought occurred to him: "Those chairs on the flight deck were our size."

"Well, then they can't have been chairs," Avon said.

"Footrests, probably," Blake suggested.

Cally nodded. "They don't sit on their behinds like we do, just squat down with their heels resting in the 'seat'."

"And their toes on what we thought were the arm- and leg-rests," Avon added.

"That explains why the chairs were paired," Jenna said.

Remembering his relaxation in the 'chair', Vila suddenly had a vision of a huge heel coming down on him. He paled. "I could have been crushed!" Another unpleasant thought occurred to him: ''I hope they're in the habit of washing their feet! I don't want to catch some horrible alien disease."

"Now there's a thought," Avon mumbled.

Vila heard. He opened his mouth to voice his hurt, but was prevented by Jenna addressing the Auron:

"Are you saying, Cally, that we were attacked by _children_?"

"I do not think they meant us any harm," Cally said again. "The ship was on night cycle. I think the youngsters had risen early, while their parents slept in - their sleeping cycle is probably longer than ours is. They got bored and when they saw _Liberator_ approach, they decided on a bit of fun. They cut their engines, making it look as if the ship was drifting, in the hope that someone would come to investigate."

"And we obliged," Blake remarked.

"They were hiding?" Gan asked, stretching his long legs. "Lying in wait for you?"

"They weren't hiding," Jenna said grimly. "Merely staying out of our way until  
they were ready to jump us."

Cally nodded. "They were there on the flight deck, observing us."

"Playing with us," Avon added.

Blake rubbed his head. "They made me fall — probably stuck out a toe. I felt myself tripping over something."

"I was grabbed," Jenna said. "It went so fast, they had a hand over my mouth before I knew what was happening."

"They blocked my telepathy," Cally said.

"But how come we didn't see them?" Vila wanted to know. Or maybe he'd rather not know. Aliens were bad enough, but aliens you didn't know were there... "You mean they're invisible?"

"Not so much invisible," Avon commented, "as blending into the background."

"Chameleons," Blake said.

Avon produced a superior smile. "Creatures with the ability to adjust the colour of their skin to that of their environment. Presumably especially in low green lighting."

"You mean they were there all the time?" Vila began to feel sick.

"Obviously," Avon replied.

"They probably stayed close to the walls," Jenna said. "So we wouldn't stumble on them before they were ready."

"Taking us out one at a time," Cally added.

Avon nodded. "Jenna became an easy victim for them when we left her alone on the flight deck."

"But they didn't want us to disturb their parents," Blake said. "That must be why they attacked me in the corridor - they had to prevent us from searching the ship."

"They jumped me as soon as you and Vila had left the flight deck," Cally told Avon.

"But where did they hide you?" Vila asked.

"They didn't," "Jenna replied. "They simply put us against the wall, shielding us from your sight with their bodies. The bastard that got me held me so tight, I couldn't even move to make a noise to draw your attention. And with those slimy fingers over my mouth, I wasn't able to call for help."

Vila snorted. "If this is the children's idea of playing games, I don't want to find out what their parents' is!" An idea struck him: "They must have sneaked up behind you and nicked your power pack, Avon, while we were studying the blood trail."

Avon's eyes flashed at him. "You didn't happen to notice it either, did you?"

Vila grinned. "It wasn't _my_ gun."

"I wonder where they're heading," Blake said. "The presence of children on that ship could point to a long voyage."

"I'd like to know where they came from," Jenna remarked.

Cally held her head in her hands, as if deep in thought. "I think I've heard my people speak of them. A long time ago they made contact with a race of six-armed giants. I can't remember much, but. . ." She raised her head. "They have an alphabet where the sounds are represented by colours instead of letters. Each sound has its own colour. A standard sound is written as a dot, an elongated sound as a square and a short sound is indicated by a triangle."

"The decorations on the hull," Vila exclaimed.

Gan nodded. "The ship's name and registration, only we didn't recognise them as such."

"Nor those on the flight console," Blake said.

"This is interesting," Avon mumbled.

"Do you still want to shoot their ship to pieces, Avon?" Cally asked.

"We agreed to let Blake decide about that," Jenna said icily.

Blake rubbed his chin. "If they were merely playing, as Cally suggests, I think we should refrain from punishing them. After all, they did let us go."

"No, they didn't," Avon said.

"Avon's onslaught made them lose their concentration," Cally explained. "Their telepathic abilities enabled them to block our communication, preventing us from contacting _Liberator_."

"They probably let our first communication through," Avon said, "because it would bring them another little human to play with."

"When Avon emptied the fire extinguisher over them," Cally continued, "they lost their hold on us, physically as well as mentally."

"And I got you out of the mess," Vila declared. He sat up straight, squaring his shoulders. "It was my call for teleport at the right moment that saved you all."

"'More by luck than judgement' seems to be the appropriate term here," Avon observed.

"Or fool's luck," Jenna said.

Vila glared at them. "You could say 'Thank you, Vila', just for once!"

Blake rose. "I think we should try to make contact with them. A race of near invisible giants could be a useful ally."

Vila jumped up, nearly spilling the last drops of his drink. "Contact those monsters after what they let their kids do to us? You can't be serious, Blake!"

"Oh, but he _is_," Avon said. "And that's the root of our problems!"

"It was you who wanted to investigate their ship, wasn't it, Avon?" Vila couldn't resist reminding him. "If you hadn't taken the initiative, none of this would have happened."

"Blake is right," Cally said. "We must make contact, if only to warn them about the Federation."

Jenna glared at her. "Brats playing painful pranks on unsuspecting travellers - we should warn the Federation about THEM!"

Blake raised his voice: "Zen, see if you can make contact with the alien ship."

"The alien ship is no longer within sensor range."

Vila looked at the main screen. It showed empty space, the nearest stars no more than pinpoints. After their flight from the Federation ships alerted by Professor Kayn, _Liberator_ had sought refuge in this quiet corner of the galaxy.

"Immediately after your return to _Liberator_, the ship's engines engaged and it departed at speed standard by eleven," Zen continued.

Jenna whistled. "That's some speed!"

"They must have wanted to make up , for the time lost while drifting," Blake said.

Gan grinned. "Looks as though those kids don't want their parents to know what they've been up to."

"They'll need to do some fast cleaning up then," Jenna remarked. "That foam made quite a mess."

"And they'll have to come up with a plausible explanation for the missing fire extinguisher." Avon punched a few buttons on the couch console and frowned on reading the data. "No use going after them, not with our energy banks still three quarters empty."

Vila couldn't say he was sorry.

* * *

"Information."

Zen's voice penetrated Vila's dream. The picture of a harem of Virgins in red fur dissolved as he opened his eyes, blinking at the harsh light of _Liberator's_ flight deck. As expected, the deck was empty; the others would be asleep in their cabins, having left Vila on night watch.

He sat up. "What is it, Zen?"

"Sensors have detected a drifting spacecraft."

"Oh no!" Vila jumped from the couch. "Not again! We've just got out of the Amagon trap! Ignore it, Zen!"

"It is sending a distress call."

"So were the Amagons!" Vila's fear was always quick to override his sense of duty. "Ignore it!"

"According to section three subsection two of the Federation Space-travel Rules any ship within reach must respond to a distress call."

"Then get us out of its reach! Maximum speed - no, that will wake the others! Increase speed gently to standard by six, Zen. They'll sleep through that."

"Confirmed."

Vila remained on edge until Zen announced: "_Liberator_ is now out of sensor range of the ship in distress."

"Good." Vila lay down to resume his slumber. Still hours to go before Avon would come to relieve him. "Oh, Zen, better not mention this to the others. I'll tell them we went off course because of a meteorite storm."

* * *

In the drifting ship Travis stared incredulously at the screen showing _Liberator's_ retreat. No use going after her, this tub couldn't manage even TD. three! He'd chosen the rundown civilian spacebus especially because of its innocuous appearance.

Why, _why_ had Blake refrained from responding? Travis had studied the man until he knew him better than he knew himself - Blake would _never_ ignore a distress call.

"The others must have overruled him," he said aloud.

"Yes, commander," his mutoid pilot agreed impassively.

"Or he's off-watch and they didn't tell him." That bunch of criminals would not hesitate to break every rule in the galaxy! He'd have killed them without a second thought, like one crushes a fly. But killing Blake, now THAT would have been a treat! And the capture of _Liberator_ would have brought him back into the Supreme Commander's favour.

"Do you want to alert the space fleet, commander?" the mutoid asked.

"What fleet, you idiot?" Travis roared, venting his frustration on his pilot. "We haven't got anything in this part of the sector! That was why I chose this place - I knew Blake would turn up here, thinking himself safe."

He slammed his fist into the palm of his artificial hand. "Damn!"

A rhythmic beeping started and the mutoid leant over the flight console, reading the data appearing on her screen. "A coded message from Space Command H.Q., commander. The Supreme Commander requests your presence at the earliest opportunity."

This caused him to frown. "What can Servalan want from me?" Then his face cleared. He began to pace the flight deck as excitement gripped him. "It can only mean one thing - she realises she needs me to deal with Blake! I'm going to get another chance." A beatific smile spread over his face. "And this time I will not fail!"


End file.
